


Bungeeing

by bonehandledknife (ladywinter)



Series: Tumblr Ficlet Liferaft [9]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, bungees, its a metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 06:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywinter/pseuds/bonehandledknife
Summary: tumblr fic written while drunk and contemplating warboy hijinks





	Bungeeing

“WITNESS meee~e~e~e~~e~~~e~~~~~”

“WITNESS!!” The war boys at the top of the overhang roared, peering under the ledge like a group of curious lemmings.

Max legitimately feels the furrows on his forehead cavern itself to new depths.

“…nngh??”

The War Boy who fell reached the end of the slack and sproinggggged back upwards. He screamed again and the crowd at the top screamed back. Max thinks he sees one of them turn to little Cheedo who is watching them all from the far end of the ledge.

_(”You’re watching right, History lady? Witnessing? It’s my turn next, you gotta watch, paint it maybe? I mean if I could paint myself, I would. A SelfPaint.”)_

Max is not sure he’d understand the conversation even if he’d overhead it.

The War Boy who’d fallen had finally stopped bouncing on the line and had swung himself over to the cliff-side. He’d released the cord to start free climbing up the rock; and the moment he did, the War Boys up top started reeling it in again. The one who’d been talking to Cheedo was already pushing himself to the front.

“Mmmmngght?” He turned to Furiosa who’d been tinkering at her arm next to him. They were sitting three hand-widths apart. This is very important for a reason that he’s not really considering, except it at-once feels like a canyon and like hands covering his mouth.

She looks over at the ledge. (”WITNESS MEEEEeeeee~~~~” shouts another War Boy as he leaps off.) “Oh. They found some sort of cable in the deep storage of the Malls. Stretchy.” Furiosa goes back to threading wire through the hydraulics.

Hmm. Maybe he needs to use more words. “Is that—” He can’t say “secure”, because nothing is. He can’t say “wise”, because of course it isn’t. He can’t say “safe,” because the War Boys are throwing themselves off the top of the Citadel expected themselves to be caught by a length of stretchy cable and not break themselves in the process.

They’re calling it “Bungeeing” based on the label on the cords and it’s the most unsafe thing Max has ever heard of.

Toast stands up behind them from where she’d been shelling a pile of peas. “I’d like to give it a go.” She wipes her green stained fingers against her paints in an annoyed way.

“Think Angharad’s ahead of you,” Furiosa mentions idly as she grimaced and ducked her head further down, contorting herself so that her knees provide a bit of leverage against the hinge of the metal thumb knuckle. 

Max hardly pays attention to the tower across the way as a thin pale-white form gets hooked onto the cable. He’s too busy trying not to let his hands twitch, wanting to help. 

“Ah.” He tries. He does _try._  

But he doesn’t even know what he wants to ask.

“Um? Need a—” he gestures with both hands, and then freezes because _maybe that was rude? That might be rude._

 _Ugh, was that rude?_ Max’s forehead gains yet another furrow. He considers this very seriously but can’t make heads or tails of it. (Why is he even _thinking_ this? he can’t make sense of that either)

Furiosa just gives him a very long look, and then sticks a piece in his hand. He closes it automatically and she scoots closer and leans her head in close as she tries to thread the wire in through the metal joint.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Angharad roars as she falls. 

Max knows exactly how she feels.

“WHOAAAAAAAAAA,” she yells as she’s yanked back up as she’s hits the end, and—

Max knows how she feels then, too, as Furiosa’s eyes flick up, briefly, from where she’s working.

She looks back down again and his stomach drops, and Toast is already running down the bridge between the towers, and Angharad is climbing up a wall, and Cheedo is laughing so loudly that he could hear it all the way from here while Dag is swearing up a storm because the peas are not going to shell themselves.

“Furiosa, I can help if you need a hand,” Capable interrupts gently, as she takes the piece that’s in Max’s white-knuckled grip. As she looks at him with kind eyes. As Max scrambles up and away and behind the three rows of corns, that the peas were climbing up, to fall to his knees in the rich loam and breathe.

And _breathe_.

He feels like he’d been spending the past decades rushing towards the hard desert floor, ever since Jessie died.

He doesn’t know what to do with the sudden sensation of being yanked upwards.

(he is breathless, weightless, 

 _blind_ )


End file.
